Apr 132014
 

Tommy was taller than me by at least a foot. He was solid. He was thick. I felt the time he put in at the gym when he pressed against me. I didn’t want to pull away. My body had nowhere else to go, anyway. There was no safe zone. I couldn’t get around him. I didn’t want to. We were face-to-face. I had to pay up.

He gently referenced kink. He had my attention. He knew it. My playful banter and coy responses, brought about his warning. He was no one to tease. My stomach dropped and my pussy convulsed. I wanted to tease him. I wanted to test him.

He was a regular at the bar. He kept to himself, but gave way to coy flirting and witty backcap. He gave as good as he got. The innuendos were quiet, even with the loud background and my business with other patrons.  All of the witty repartee siphoned out his dominant side. He knew I had an obvious understanding, but had chosen to teeter on the bratty side. I did so from behind the bar. It was a safe zone, mentioned many times. It was part of our game. I could tell it excited him. It excited me.

When Tommy stayed for more than his usual three beers, we spoke more in-depth. He couldn’t adapt to a vanilla relationship. And no relationship adapted to him. He was taking a break for a while. He went to the gym. He went to work. He came to the bar. Happy hour was very happy for both of us.

Some of his words sent me dipping out of sight. Hidden behind the bar was an unused kitchen. It stored two big beer coolers and the liquor kept in stock. There was never time to rub one out at work. Someone was always fucking thirsty. It did provide enough privacy to regain mental footing, if only for a moment. It was becoming obvious to him what was sending me running for cover. It amused him. I never expected him to follow me.

But there he stood. Shock stole my tongue. I looked up at him. He looked straight down to me. He was stoic.  I considered nervously laughing off my surrender. But the atmosphere changed, and I didn’t have any more witty remarks. He leaned down and filled his hands with the back of my thighs. His fingertips gripped tightly just above the shredded line of my cut-offs. He lifted me with up with spread legs and leaned his weight against me and the beer cooler.

His lips were fat. I wanted to suck one. I tried to kiss him, but he pulled away. I looked up at him, instinctually; my face questioning what I thought was his hesitance. But I didn’t see him. He caught my mouth the instant before. Those lips that I wanted to taste were eating me whole.

It wasn’t romantic. It had nothing to do with what I wanted. This person was who he warned me about. He told me that he was no one to tease. There was no safety of the bar’s depth between them. Three beers today. Tommy wasn’t thirsty. Tommy was hungry.

The thick seam from my cut-off jeans rode up in between the plump outer lips of my pussy. Tommy’s handfuls were kneading their way up to my ass. I got his lip, for a moment. He let me have it. He nosed down and bit my nipple through my t-shirt. He could have it. I was cock hungry. He could have pushed the panties aside and slid right in. Time wouldn’t have allowed for it, but it’s what I wanted more than anything in that moment.

I dry humped him like a flat-backing whore. He came back up for my mouth. I sucked on his lip, just like I wanted to do his cock. Then I bit it. I bit it hard. He growled and I let go as his body tensed against mine. He went for my neck. He licked it. He slithered his tongue over my throat so that his teeth would have a slick place to land and sink in. I wanted to cum. He bit my neck. He bit it hard. I pulled at the back of his t-shirt when his teeth sank in. My cunt jerked and spat.

I was cock hungry.

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Apr 092013
 

I lied about my first kiss. I always told people that my second kiss was really my first kiss. That’s not the way it went down. Now, since I’m a slut, I’ll tell you that I kissed him. That first boy. I took his lips. I liked him and he liked me. He lusted after me for the rest of that afternoon. You could tell. When the attention gets …uncomfortable.

He told his mother …like a pussy. And she made me feel dirty. Standing behind me that next day at school. Talking  with our teacher about closet situations, and monitoring students more closely. Of course I heard. Him. Hanging his head. Shame holding it down, but his face was fired-up red in a much different way than it was after I’d kissed him. Stupid pussy. And Fuck You, old bitch. I took it. Nothing you can say about me will ever get it back for him. And he liked it. He still likes it. And you just made sure that he’ll never get another one for a while. Oh, he’ll love you for that.

The next year, he was just someone I remembered.

I was walking outside to Spanish one day. It was sunny, not hot. A random girl tapped me on my shoulder and moused me aside of the students lazily making their way into the room. She liked that first boy of mine.  She asked me about him. I gave a half-assed laugh and told her not to go kissing him.

He tells his Mother everything.

 

 

 

Jan 142010
 

What was your first experience with an erect cock?

Sweet, little, southern, Christian girl, straight home from cheerleading practice, sneaks her then boyfriend over for an hour or so before her Mom gets home from work.

I had on just a pair of black cotton panties and a white long sleeved button down shirt, all the buttons undone. I had taken off my own pants and my bra was gone before he’d even gotten there. I have always had nice, full tits, and I had known what I was doing in losing the bra. I just remember trying to plan everything so carefully. Oh God was I nervous!  When he got there he was instantly touching me, and I was on the couch, my Mom’s cream, floral couch, something my Grandmother had helped to pick out, no doubt. Here’s what I think of your couch, Grandmother, and not to mention overall floral prints, too.

He was on top of me, between my legs, and his cock was hard. He just had his underwear on, and we weren’t really looking at each other as much as he was attacking my face like a hungry animal, grabbing at my tits and not sure what to do with one when he had it, but when he did happen to graze a nipple I would hiss and arch, and he would freak for a nano-moment, seem not to understand, then go back to his activities. I could feel how hard he was. He was pressing against me and God he was so hard. I can remember how almost uncomfortable it  was for him to touch me.

I got up and asked him if he was thirsty and wanted something to drink. I walked into the kitchen. I was so ridiculous. Looking back, he is the most passive person in the world. But then, in my perfect little fantasy (yes, even then) my make-out sessions included a little more “I am Man, you are… Mine!”… I wanted a little wrist pinning, hands in the hair, snatching off the rest of my clothes and “taking it if you want it”. I guess I never thought about it that way, but had it been with the right person, I would have easily lost my virginity that day. Instead, I was way frustrated, so at some point I decided to make the best of it, and use it as a learning experience.

I slowed his kissing, sat him down, straddling him, took my time and just enjoyed him. Through my panties I could feel the pressure of his cock rubbing up against my clit, as I moved against him. I gently introduced him to my nipples, and I got off. Afterward, I reached inside his underwear and wrapped my hand around his cock. I had no idea what I was going to do. I’d never touched one before. Thank God I didn’t have much to worry about. Before my hand really even closed, he grabbed me tightly and blew with a loud cry that made me jump. It scared me, and I know I jerked his cock some. God knows how that felt.

I was just some chick who had no idea what to do or even what I was willing to do. I knew what I wanted, but was too afraid to say it.

I hope that answers your question… :)